


Actor, Unwilling

by prozyim



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: A little angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, General, Humor, Repressed Theobald, Strong Language, spoilers for all of acoc, unreq!Theo x Lazuli if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25837336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prozyim/pseuds/prozyim
Summary: “You want me to… pretend to be Duchess Caramelinda, so you can practice your dinner proposal? Me?”The rock candy man pulled his arm off of Theobald. “If I ask Cal, he’s just gonna eat my ass about it and that man has enough blackmail over me as it is!” Amethar chuckled; Theobald couldn’t decide if he wanted to. “Aside from him, you’re the only one I can rely on, and I think you know Cara enough to know which of my jokes she won’t laugh at.”…A young King Amethar asks Theobald for help the night before his scheduled proposal to Caramelinda. Spoilers for the entirety of A Crown of Candy.
Relationships: Theobald Gumbar & Amethar Rocks, Theobald Gumbar & Caramelinda Rocks
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Actor, Unwilling

**Author's Note:**

> this idea popped into my head and was inspired by the pride & prejudice (2005) practice proposal scene between bingley and darcy. the fic itself ended up nothing like this scene, but it was still really fun to write and explore the relationship between theo and amethar. i don't think my fic really complies with the timeline, but i hope you enjoy this tiny morsel of my silly idea nonetheless!

For the past week, Castle Candy was comparable to a pit of used coals being stoked incessantly by self-interested lords and ladies. The warmest of them shuffled uselessly with their poking, unable to light the flame again. Yet the rumors heard down the halls persisted—Amethar of House Rocks and Caramelinda, Duchess of Meringue, were expected to be engaged by the next night. 

Sir Theobald Gumbar was out patrolling the castle grounds after avoiding the unsought attention of some of the curious, titled visitors. He couldn’t be bothered to entertain them then, and relaxed once he was able to do something monotonous and quiet. 

His patrol, however, was very quickly hijacked again.

His name was uttered from a voice straining much too hard to be quiet. Standing behind him with his large and assuming form as he wrinkled his pink forehead was Prince Amethar of House Rocks. King, now. His eyes were trained on Theobald’s form, expectant, restless, moving between the gummy bear and the floor. Theobald, if nothing else, learned to read these signals from his charge. He wanted to talk.

The pair moved as subtly as Theobald would allow it into a well-hidden courtyard, the moon painting what little they saw not obscured by the shade of the peppermint tree. Theobald stood beneath the shade, gazing straight on at his king as his form was lit by the moon. 

“I need your help with something,” Amethar began hesitantly. “I’m supposed to get engaged to Caramelinda tomorrow. But,” and he paused, checking again that they were alone, “ _I have no clue how to talk to her._ ” 

A long pause settled between them. Theobald wanted to frown, but he didn’t. “What would you like me to do? My Lord,” he added quickly at the end.

Amethar, emboldened, touched his shoulder and leaned in. “I need help, man. Everyone keeps telling me I gotta put on a show tomorrow and now I’m freaking out.” He gestured a lot with his hands as he spoke. “Can I practice my lines on you? Pretend you’re her.”

Theobald could not count all the points at which his gut twisted beneath his plate armor. He did not supply an immediate response, as his voice choked at the sudden odd request. “You want me to… pretend to be Duchess Caramelinda, so you can practice your dinner proposal? Me?” 

The rock candy man pulled his arm off of Theobald. “If I ask Cal, he’s just gonna eat my ass about it and that man has enough blackmail over me as it is!” Amethar chuckled; Theobald couldn’t decide if he wanted to. “Aside from him, you’re the only one I can rely on, and I think you know Cara enough to know which of my jokes she won’t laugh at.” 

Theobald blinked, a little surprised by his king’s observation. He considered those words for a moment, his mind working backwards into memories he hadn’t touched in a while. He remembered long blonde hair hanging over the sofa in the study, he remembered two people laughing behind the door and recognizing neither voice, he remembered blue hands bursting with magic and honey-colored ones with timid sparks, he remembered shaking that honey hand later on and finding they were not at all timid with him. _She wouldn’t laugh at any of them._

“I will do whatever you ask of me, my Lord.” He bowed at ninety degrees.

The king tapped him on the shoulder, fingers clinking against armor. “Hey, straighten up. You’re out of character.” 

Theobald did so, and then looked straight into Amethar’s eyes as both of them awkwardly tried to find a starting place. The man opposite him coughed. “Just remember you’re not my knight right now, you’re my, well… you’re Cara. Don’t be nervous.”

A puff of air came out of Theobald’s nose as he nodded. Amethar mirrored his affirmation, but with a jaunty smile, his purple mantle rustling just lightly by the wind. 

“Shit, I should’ve brought a script.”

The words of his charge did not keep Theobald’s nerves at bay for long. More quickly than he could have imagined, Theobald watched Amethar fumble through opening joke after opening joke in an attempt, he explained, to break the ice between him and his fiance-to-be. The strain in Theobald’s brow betrayed any placating feedback he tried to give.

Rubbing his green beard, Amethar paced the garden. Every so often he looked at his acting partner, who hadn’t moved from his original spot, and asked him a question. 

“So, the one about the Meep swallowing the ring wouldn’t fly?” 

Theobald shook his head. 

“What about the one where I say I’m late to dinner because I stepped on Limon and got my shoes sticky?” 

“Well—” Theobald hesitated. _I can’t even come to Limon’s defense because the very thing happened to me, and I still don’t know why he was sticky._

Amethar finished his thought for him. “Yeah, she’d probably think it’s gross. Just between you and me, I don’t think she likes Limon that much.” He waved his hand away at the idea. Theobald physically relaxed and continued to watch the other man pace back and forth. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could be in a situation in which he was required to give his opinion. 

Then epiphany struck. _You’re Caramelinda,_ he remembered, and the thought filled his next words with false courage. “If I may, my Lord, the Duchess Caramelinda's dignity would desire a more formal greeting.” (Perhaps she would have said it differently). 

Amethar looked up at him, arms falling to the side. His smile was a little sheepish as he quietly admitted, “Yeah, she wouldn’t want this to be any easier.” He sighed and then joined Theobald beneath the shade of the peppermint tree, looking up at the moon. “I didn’t think I’d go to bed a war guy and wake up to people pushing the crown on my head. Cal told me I had to marry Caramelinda, and then she basically cornered me and gave me the ring. Now I’ve gotta give it back to her.” He gave the gummy bear a long look. “I don’t think I can make her smile the way Lazuli did.” 

The strong minty scent of the peppermint bark enveloped the two actors as though preventing the breath to speak. Theobald blinked, his mouth going dry. He wished to have the right kind of strength for this moment. Blue hair and blonde; loving eyes not directed toward him. What did he know about her, really? 

Somehow, he pushed out words. “My Lord, Duchess Caramelinda is a woman that is deeply grounded in the realities of this world. She knows you. She does not expect you to be anything that you cannot become. Don’t think about the past, it is done. Think about what you have to do now.” 

Theobald quickly shut up, wondering if he said too much. 

The rock candy man was quiet, looking down at the ground. He was typically so big, so boisterous, but he had a number of reasons not to be anymore. Theobald felt guilt welling in his stomach. “If you’d like, we could practice the proposal. I could give you choreography pointers,” Theobald offered. 

“Proposal choreo?” Amethar looked at him in disbelief, the corner of his lip curling up. “Damn, Theobald, you’re full of surprises under there.” 

The knight could hardly contain his glee at his king’s praise. Sometimes, sometimes being bold paid off. He didn’t mind Amethar grasping his way out of that conversation. Sir Theobald Gumbar was still getting used to change. He just had to learn, however long it would take.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again for reading and please leave kudos and comments! 
> 
> bonus headcanon that didn't end up being mentioned in the story: 'cara' is a nickname that lazuli used a lot


End file.
